


here's to hoping

by wayfarer



Category: Eye Candy (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayfarer/pseuds/wayfarer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jake is avoiding Lindy, Tommy is as helpful as ever and Lindy finally gets a clue.</p>
<p>Or, Jake clues in Lindy about Tommy's feelings for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	here's to hoping

**Author's Note:**

> don't look at me 
> 
> (also this was initially supposed to be lighthearted and romcom-esque, but then my angsty feelings for ben crept up and took me by surprise, so)
> 
> Edit: JAKE YOU BASTARD I TRUSTED YOU

“Am I boring you, Miss Sampson?”

Lindy looks up from the blank screen of her phone to Sergeant Shaw’s angry eyes at the head of the table. They’re in a private conference room of the Cyber Crimes Unit, working the Babylon case. Working is possibly too loose of a term. So far, it's consisted of the Sergeant telling them to get their asses in gear and catch this guy, Tommy irritably arguing strategy, Yeager trying to keep the peace and several other people whose names Lindy will admit she doesn’t know looking like they’re about to piss themselves. They’ve been in the meeting for over an hour and they have exactly what they started with: a whopping nothing. No suspects, no leads, no anything.

Lindy slips her phone back in her jacket pocket and tries to keep her smile placating. “Not at all, Sergeant.”

“Really?” she asks, drawing out the word. If anything, Lindy’s answer has only made her even more angry. “Because you’ve done nothing but stare at your phone for the last ten minutes. Tell me, do you not comprehend how important it is to catch the person behind Babylon?”

Lindy feels her hackles rise and she sits up straight in the uncomfortable office chair, ignoring the look Tommy is shooting her from across the table. “Of course I do,” Lindy snaps, feeling her patience finally give. “In case you forgot, last week I was chained to a pipe with a branding iron a centimeter away from my back. I want to catch this person just as much as you do, but you sitting here telling us how important this case is isn’t going to help solve it.”

The Sergeant leans forward, resting her hands flat on the conference room table, eyes furious and looking straight into Lindy’s. “Then what is going to help solve this case, Miss Sampson?”

Lindy falters, the now familiar feeling of frustration and annoyance and anger this case evokeds twisting in her chest. “I don’t know,” she answers honestly. “Whoever this person is, they’re good. They know how to keep themselves hidden.”

“If you don’t know then why are you even here?”

“Because you need me,” Lindy replies, willing herself to stay calm. She knows she needs to try to keep the peace, despite wanting to storm out of the room and tell these people where they can shove it. She’s willing to admit she needs them as much as they need her. “You hired me because you knew the only way you were catching the Flirtual Killer is if I was working with you. Just like you know the only way you’re catching this person is if I help.”

She takes a deep breath before continuing, “You need me because my skill by far surpasses your team’s and I need the support of the police force. But this? Sitting here talking strategy? This isn’t how I work and it certainly isn’t how we’re going to catch this person.”

Lindy knows by the tension filling the room that everyone is waiting for an utter blowout, but her words have evidently cooled the Sergeant’s rage, if the way she sighs and leans back is any indication. “Go do your job, Miss Sampson. Everyone out.”

Lindy doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s out of her seat and through the door before the rest of them have even stood up. She feels shaky as she walks to the coffee station, strung out and angry and exhausted. She hasn’t been sleeping much since she was taken, since the man who held a hot iron to her back gave her the Flirtual Killer’s message. She’s tired and more than anything she just wants this to all be over.

She’s so lost in her thoughts she doesn’t notice someone coming up behind her until their hand is on her shoulder. She jerks, causing the coffee to miss the cup and spill out on the counter. It misses her hand by an inch. “Shit,” she gasps.

“Easy,” Tommy murmurs, handing her a few napkins.

She takes them and begins mopping up the spilled liquid. From the corner of her eye she sees Tommy lean against the wall beside her with his arms crossed. He’s in full detective mode, watching her carefully. He has something to say, she knows, but she’s not in the mood to pry it out of him. If he has something to say, he’ll just have to say it.

She doesn’t have to wait long.

“What was all of that about?” he asks, after she’s thrown away the soiled napkins and is adding a truly ridiculous number of sugar packets to her coffee. Desperate times call for desperate measures and she needs all the help she can get.

“What was what about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he scoffs. “You don’t do it well.”

It used to amaze her knowing that Tommy and Ben were more than just partners who worked together during the day and then went home to lead their own separate lives. Before, when she was dating Ben but didn’t know who he really was, he would talk about Tommy a lot. He was casual about it, unable to provide many details, but she could tell Ben thought of him as a brother. He told her stories of their antics growing up, eyes bright and laughing as he recounted the details of an endless number of pranks and after school detentions.

She didn’t actually meet Tommy until after she was arrested. Despite feeling so furious and betrayed she could hardly see straight, she remembers thinking after their unorthodox introduction, _is this really Ben’s best friend? Is this really the same guy Ben told her stories about?_

Tommy was uptight and cold and arrogant and she couldn’t imagine Ben even tolerating this man, let alone loving him. He was closed off where Ben was open, apathetic where Ben was caring. Tommy seemed to possess every bad quality Ben didn’t and none of the good ones he did.

Now, of course, she knows Tommy better. She knows underneath that hard exterior is someone who cares deeply about people, who wants to help, who takes it personally when he can’t. She knows he’s loyal and hardworking and so, so smart, just like Ben was. She knows that Ben and Tommy worked so well together because what they lacked in themselves the other made up for. Ben kept Tommy from being too jaded, from always expecting the worst from people and Tommy kept Ben from being too naive, from always expecting the best when that’s so rarely what he got.

“Do you miss Ben?” she blurts out before she can stop herself, looking up at Tommy for the first time since he startled her.

She can see the shock her question elicits before he can school his features. She feels a little satisfaction, despite herself. It always feels like a win to catch Tommy off guard. “Of course I do,” he says immediately. That’s another thing they had in common. Unwavering honesty, when it really matters. “I miss him every day.”

She smiles, but it feels ugly. “Me too.”

His eyebrows furrow. She sips her coffee as she waits for him to gather his thoughts, to put into words whatever he’s thinking. He’s not an open book like Ben was, but she’s getting better at reading him all the same.

He’s still leaning against the wall, arms crossed and stance casual, but his eyebrows are still furrowed and she knows without a doubt he’s trying to be careful with how he approaches whatever he’s thinking. “You know it’s…” he trails off, searching her face for something.

She raises an eyebrow.

“You look tired,” he finally settles on.

She snorts, sipping her coffee. She hardly needs to be a detective to know that isn’t what he wanted to say. “I haven’t been sleeping well the last few days," she replies.

“Because of last week?” He’s got a good poker face, but she can see the guilt in his eyes. For not figuring out it wasn’t the wine that was drugged, for not being able to stop her from being taken, for not figuring out where she was sooner. As if any of that was his fault.

“Yes and no,” she answers truthfully. “It’s everything. It’s this damn case, it’s the Flirtual Killer always being three steps ahead, it’s….”

She can feel her face heat up as she trails off, hoping Tommy doesn’t notice.

He does, of course. “What?” he asks.

“Nothing,” she says casually, willing him to drop it.

He doesn’t, of course. “Does this have something to do with why you were checking your phone every two minutes during the meeting?”

Tommy is scarily perceptive and it’s one of the many reasons why he’s so good at his job. His persistence is another, so she knows he won’t drop it until she tells him the truth. “You’ll think it’s stupid,” she says, looking down at her shoes.

“Try me.”

She wipes a hand over her face, wishing she was anywhere but here, having this conversation. _Like a bandaid_ , she thinks and says, “It’s Jake.”

“Jake?” That is clearly not what he was expecting. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing's happened.”

“I’m not following.”

“That’s the problem,” Lindy says. “Nothing’s happened. I’ve barely spoken to him since last week. He’s been avoiding me.”

She didn’t notice right away, if she’s being honest. After Tommy found her, Michael Doll was taken into custody and interrogated. It took hours and he gave them nothing. Afterwards, Tommy tried to get her to go to the hospital and get checked out for the head wound, but she declined. Frustrated and shaken up, she went home and went to bed.

She tried to call Jake the next morning, but her call went straight to voice mail. He texted her two hours later, saying he was glad she was okay, something with work had come up and he would talk to her later.

As of yet, she hasn’t heard anything. She’s not stupid, she knows she’s being avoided, but she doesn’t know why. She doesn’t know what’s changed.

“Last week was intense,” Tommy says. He looks uncomfortable and she can’t really blame him. Tommy isn’t one for sharing his feelings. This is a conversation probably better had with Sophia, but Tommy did ask and Lindy needs to talk to someone about this. It’s not that she’s going to be heartbroken if Jake decides he doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. She’d even understand. She just wants him to tell her that. She doesn’t like unanswered questions and loose ends.

“Our entire relationship has been intense from the start,” Lindy argues. Jake was arrested a few weeks ago because they thought he was a serial killer, for god’s sake. It doesn’t get much more intense than that. “If it’s over, I just want to be told that. I don’t like being left hanging.”

“Look, Lindy,” he says, rubbing his forehead. She wonders if he thinks she’s moving on too quickly. That she’s forgetting Ben. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Forget it. It is what it is.”

He looks like he’s relieved to be given an out, but also like he has more to say. She isn’t up for a lecture and she has work to do, so she starts to walk away. She’s only made it a few steps before he calls her name. She pauses, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

He’s no longer leaning against the wall, but standing a few steps away from it, like he started following her, but decided against it. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “if it’s over, it’s his loss.”

His poker face is as strong as ever. He could be thinking about Ben or the weather or nothing at all.

“Thanks,” she says and walks away.

 

The next two days goes like this: she wakes up, goes to the Cyber Crimes Unit, gets nowhere with the Babylon or Flirtual Killer case, resists the urge to break her computer into a million pieces, goes home, gets in bed and doesn’t sleep. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Jake doesn’t call.

She’s resigned herself to the fact that he’s not going to by the second night. It stings a little, but she’ll live. Jake’s a nice guy, but she’s got a Ben shaped hole in her heart (she will for a long, long time) and a killer with a jealous obsession for her. A relationship is probably the last thing she needs.

So it’s safe to say she’s more than a little surprised when she finds Jake sitting on the floor outside of her door, a bag of groceries by his side and a sheepish look on his stupidly handsome face when she gets home that night.

“Jake,” she says, pausing a few feet away from him. She tries to look a little less shocked than she feels. “Didn’t think I’d see you again.”

He gets to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks tired, like maybe he’s been getting the same amount of sleep she has. “I deserved that,” he says earnestly.

She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms over her chest. Maybe it’s a little vindictive, but she doesn’t want to make this easy for him. He, after all, is the one who’s been ignoring her.

“Look,” he says, jumping right in. “I know you’re mad and you have every right to be. I’ve been avoiding you.”

“Yeah,” Lindy snorts. “I got that.”

“What happened last week…” he trails off, face darkening. An array of emotions are twisting his features, fear and anger and something she can’t put a name to, but isn’t good. “It was a lot. It was terrifying. I thought you were going to die.”

“That’s my life right now, Jake,” she sighs, feeling the anger bleed away. It’s justified, she knows, but she’s too tired to stay angry. “You know that.”

“I do,” he replies, taking a step toward her. “I like you, Lindy. I was scared and I took it out on you and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it. But I don’t want this to be over.”

She studies him, looking for any doubt or hesitancy. She doesn’t find any. She knows this is probably a mistake. She’s not ready for a relationship and it’s dangerous for her and for him, especially, but she likes Jake. He helps her forget what a disaster her life has become, even if it’s only for a few hours. “Okay,” she says. “I forgive you.”

His face breaks out in a brilliant grin and before she knows it he’s got an arm around her waist and his lips are on hers. The kiss is hesitant at first, more so than the first time, but it lasts longer and by the time he pulls back, she’s breathless.

“Excellent,” he says, taking a step back, face flushed and eyes shining. He gestures to the bags on the floor. “Can I come inside and make you dinner?”

“Yeah,” she says, huffing out a laugh. Sophia is working and won’t be home until late and well, why not? “Yeah, you can.”

 

Lindy sits on the counter while Jake navigates the kitchen, as natural with cooking as she is with her laptop. He’s making spaghetti and it smells mouth watering. She laughs when she finds out, thinking back to her own disastrous attempt at making sauce. He’s obviously a little confused, but he doesn’t ask, just brings a spoonful to her lips to try.

She makes an embarrassing noise the moment it reaches her taste buds. “Alright, spill,” she says, wiping a drop of the sauce from her lips and licking it off her finger. “You went to culinary school, not law school, didn’t you?”

“Only if culinary school was Google and my dorm room kitchen,” he laughs, slicing a loaf of Italian bread and buttering the pieces. He slides the pan in the oven when he’s finished and leans up against the counter opposite of her.

“I guess you’re just a natural,” she says. “I’m jealous. I think the last successful thing I’ve cooked was a grilled cheese sandwich a year ago.”

“That is… very sad,” he says solemnly. “A real tragedy.”

“You should’ve been here the last time I tried to make spaghetti,” she says, leaving out the part where he was supposed to be. “It tasted more like dish water than tomato sauce. On the upside the salad was pretty good.”

“To small victories,” he says, raising his wine glass.

“To small victories,” she repeats, clinking her glass to his and taking a sip.

“So,” he says, licking a dropping of wine from his top lip. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Did you go to school for all of your computer stuff or are you a natural?”

“Uh, no,” she says, smiling sadly. “I only went to MIT for about half a semester before I dropped out.”

“Because of your sister.”

“Because of my sister,” she confirms.

She's seen the expression on his face reflected on a hundred others, a mixture of sadness and sympathy and unease, like maybe she's about to burst into tears. She doesn't blame him, really. Before Sarah disappeared, she'd probably look the same if someone told her their loved one was taken while they watched on helpless and had yet to be found, either dead or alive. It's beyond words, how awful it is.

“You should probably check the bread,” she says, gesturing to the oven, before he tries to lend her comfort she doesn't want. “The oven runs hotter than most.”

He nods, taking the hint.

The bread isn’t burnt, could probably stand to cook another minute or two, but neither of them say this. They’re mostly quiet as they fix their plates and sit down at the table, but the tension is broken when she makes a horribly embarrassing noise at the first bite.

He laughs, looking equal parts relieved and pleased. “You’re starting to make me believe you live off of cereal and frozen food.”

“And take out,” she says, covering her mouth so he doesn’t see her half chewed bite.

The conversation flows easily after that, talking about everything and nothing. They avoid the topic of the Flirtual Killer and last week and anything to do with her work, really. His, however, they talk about. He wasn’t lying when he said something came up, she realizes, as he tells her about the corporate takeover case he’s currently working on. It sounds a little boring, if she’s being honest, but his eyes are bright as he tells her how close they are to winning. She recognizes that look of enthusiasm and pride. It’s the same one on Tommy’s face when he’s made a break in a case. She imagines it’s the same one on hers after she’s cracked a particularly hard security system.

They’re nearing the end of their meal when Jake’s phone rings. He shoots her an apologetic look as he digs it out from his pocket. “Speaking of work,” he says, frowning down at the screen. “Do you mind if I…”

She waves him off. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about it.”

He mouths _thank you_ as he answers the phone, sliding back from the table and heading out into the hallway. After a few minutes she starts fiddling with her napkin, unable to stop her mind from going back to the case. It’s beyond frustrating having nothing to go on, no leads, no anything. Babylon, whoever they are, is beating her and she _hates_ it.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, saving her from the beginning of a headache. Normally when she’s on a date, she turns off her phone, but with the epic shit storm her life has become, no way is she cutting off her connection to the outside world, even if she does have a protective detail on the road outside, watching the apartment.

To her surprise, it’s from Tommy.

_everything okay?_ it reads.

_yes_ , she replies, laughing. _no serial killers in sight._

He replies immediately. _funny._

She hesitates a moment before sending, _jake’s here. we’re having dinner._ Just in case the cop outside sees a strange man come out of her building and calls in the cavalry. She learned a few weeks ago they have a photo of everyone in the building, just in case.

It takes him a few minutes to reply and she laughs when he does. She can almost hear his half amused, half exasperated tone of voice. _well, look at that. all that teenage angst for nothing._

_ha. ha. you’re so funny._

“Sorry about that,” Jake says, sliding into his seat across from her. “There’s always some kind of emergency that apparently requires my immediate attention.”

She jumps slightly, not having heard him come back in the room. She puts her phone in her pocket before Tommy replies. She figures he’s smart enough not to assume she’s been murdered if she doesn’t text back right away. “Is everything okay?”

He nods, rolling his eyes with an exasperated smile. “Nothing they can’t handle on their own,” he answers. He gestures to her pocket. “Everything okay with you?”

“Yeah,” she answers. “Tommy was just checking in.”

The light, easy smile on his face fades into a frown and he grabs his wine glass, downing the remaining liquid to hide it. “I see,” he says, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

“Are you sure everything is okay with work?” she asks, confused. “If you need to go I’ll understand.”

“It’s not work, Lindy.”

“Then what is?”

“Can I ask you something?” he asks suddenly, leaning forward with a pinched brow.

“Uh oh. That never means anything good,” she laughs, but evidently the joke falls short. If anything, his expression grows even more serious and she feels a little whiplashed. Everything had been fine just a few minutes ago. “Jake. What is it?”

“What is Tommy?”

She stares at him. Out of all the things he could have asked her, this one is possibly the least expected. “Um,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “He’s my partner, I guess. Well, technically Yeager is his partner, but-”

“I mean,” he interrupts, “what is Tommy to _you?_ ”

“He’s...,” she trails off, frowning. What is Tommy to her? She’s never really considered it. At first, he was just Ben’s best friend and the guy she was working with to help catch his killer. Now, well. “A friend,” she settles on. “Tommy is my friend.”

“Well that’s not how he looks at you.”

Her frown deepens. She’s not sure exactly where this is going, but she has a feeling deep in the pit of her stomach she isn’t going to like it. “What are you talking about?”

“Lindy,” Jake says, scoffing a little. “Come on. You’re a smart girl. You can’t tell me you don’t see it.”

“See what?” she asks, starting to get irritated.

“How Tommy is with you,” he bursts out. “He’s with you all the time, he has his partner watch you when he isn’t, he texts you to make sure you’re alright even though you have a _protective detail_ outside.”

“It’s his job to make sure I’m alright.”

“Was it his job to beat that man to a pulp last week for trying to hurt you?”

She’s starting to get a pretty clear picture of what he’s trying to say here and her stomach was right, she doesn’t like where this is going at all. “You think Tommy has feelings for me,” she says, deadpan.

He laughs slightly, a disbelieving, unpleasant sound. “Lindy, I think Tommy is in love with you.”

She jerks back like she’s been slapped because that’s- that’s just- “Tommy is not in love with me,” she snaps. “He cares about me because his best friend was in love with me and we’re friends, but not because-”

“Just because Ben was in love with you doesn’t mean Tommy can’t be too,” Jake interrupts. “Maybe you don’t want to see it or you aren’t ready to see it, but I can. The way he looks at you, the way he looks at _me_ when I’m around you. It’s not a cop protecting his partner and it sure as hell isn’t a man protecting his best friend’s girl.”

“He thought you were a serial killer up until a few weeks ago,” she says weakly.

The look he gives her is too close to pity for her comfort, like he thinks she’s in denial and it’s sad. “But he knows I’m not now.”

“That’s why you’ve been ignoring me,” she realizes suddenly. “Because you think Tommy is in love with me.”

“It’s not just that,” he says. “I was there when he found you. I came into the room right as he was getting you down from that pipe and Lindy, you just fell into him like- I don’t know. Like you _knew_ he was the only person capable of saving you.”

“You think I’m in love with him too.”

“I don’t know,” he says, face softening. He reaches out a hand and circles her limp wrist lying on the table. His hand is warm and smooth on her skin. “Maybe you aren’t in love with him, but I see the way you look at him sometimes. There’s something there.”

“But Ben-”

“Ben and Tommy aren’t the same people, Lindy,” he says, stroking the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist. “You can still love Ben and miss him, but have feelings for Tommy. It’s not one or the other.”

“So, is this” she stops, disbelieving and a little numb. “Is this it? For us?”

He releases her wrist and leans back in the chair, smiling softly. “I think it is,” he says sadly. “I like you, Lindy. I like you a lot. I think I could even love you, eventually. But I’m scared it’s going to be six months from now and you’re going to realize you love him too and I’m going to have my heart broken because when it comes down to it, I don’t think I can compete with him.”

She opens her mouth, but she can’t make anything come out. She’s completely at a loss for words.

“It’s okay,” he says, looking earnest. He stands up and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair, slipping it on. “Really, it is. I want you to be happy.”

She’s frozen until he nods slightly and begins walking toward the door. She jumps up then and follows, not wanting him to completely walk out of her life without saying anything. “Jake.”

He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, looking surprised she followed.

She swallows, unsure what to say, but knowing she needs to say something. It takes her a minute and he waits patiently. She still can’t find the words so she says, lamely, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he says, smiling a little more genuinely. “And I’m sorry for springing this all on you and then leaving. But I think it’ll be better this way.”

“For what it’s worth,” she says, finding her words, “I do like you.”

He nods. His hand slips off the doorknob and he closes the few steps between them. He reaches a hand up to cradle her cheek and leans down to brush a small kiss over her lips. It feels like goodbye.

He steps back, clearing his throat. “I know I didn’t know Ben,” he says quietly. “And I don’t want to overstep, but if he was half the man you said he was I don’t think he would look at it as some kind of betrayal. He loved you and he loved Tommy and I think he would be happy if you two found happiness in each other.”

And with that, he leaves.

 

The irony is not lost on her, where she ends up going.

After Jake left, she’d stood there for a few minutes, feeling overwhelmed. It was a lot to deal with and she didn’t know _how_ to, so when she felt her phone vibrate and saw Tommy’s reply ( _i know, i’m hilarious_ ), she felt like she had her answer.

She’d cleared the table and put away the leftovers, sticking a note on the fridge to Sophia that simply said, _there’s food in the fridge. i’m going over to tommy’s. not sure when i’ll be back. lindy._ Sophia would have questions because going to Tommy’s wasn’t exactly a normal thing, but she’d have to wait until tomorrow for answers.

She called the cop outside, Detective Cole something, to tell him she was leaving the apartment. As much as she liked pushing boundaries, she didn’t want to get him in trouble because she snuck out. He offered to give her a ride and she agreed, grabbing her jacket and heading out. She got him to stop first at a gas station and then at her favorite pizza place. He’d seemed a little surprised when she asked him to take her to Detective Calligan’s place, but whatever he was thinking he kept to himself.

So really, the irony is not lost on her as she stands outside Tommy’s door, a pizza box in one hand and a case of beer in the other, using her foot to knock on the door. She feels beyond ridiculous, but she didn’t want to show up empty handed.

She doesn’t know how to do this with Tommy, is the thing. They are friends, but she’s never spent any time with him outside of work. There’s no precedence.

She hadn’t texted Tommy on her way there, unable to find the courage, so he looks more than a little surprised when he opens the door to see her standing there with pizza and beer. “I got dumped,” she explains, not sure what else to say. A little too late, she hopes he doesn’t have company.

Before he can reply, a huge ball of fluff comes barreling around Tommy and jumps on her. She yelps and nearly loses her balance, but Tommy grabs onto her arm and steadies her. “Borris,” he says to the dog, voice dripping with authority. “Bad dog. Go back inside.”

The dog whines and drops back to the floor, but he doesn’t go inside. He looks up her, wagging his tail, clearly waiting for her to pet him. Tommy sighs and takes the pizza from her, stepping to the side and gesturing her in. She does, looking around as she absently rubs the dog’s head, hearing the door close and lock behind her.

The apartment is simple like she would expect from a single man, but elegant, all dark colors and symmetry. It’s nice. Very Tommy. He seems to have gotten most of his stuff back, though she can tell by an empty space here and there he didn’t get back everything.

“So,” he says, setting the pizza box down on the glass coffee table. “How did you go from having dinner to getting dumped?”

“That,” she says, plopping down onto the couch with a _unf_ , “is a long story.”

“Do I get to hear the story?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest, standing above her. He looks like a detective grilling a suspect. She smiles, wondering if he does it on purpose because he thinks it's intimidating, that it’ll get him answers more easily.

_Not a chance_ , she thinks.

“Maybe,” she says. She twists the top off a bottle and holds it out to him. He stares at her for a few seconds before sighing. He takes it and sits down beside her. She smiles slightly and opens her own bottle, taking a long swig of it.

“It wasn’t anything bad,” she says because she doesn’t want Tommy to think Jake did something horrible, that he isn’t a good person. “It just… didn’t work out.”

He opens his mouth and closes it, eyebrows furrowing. Trying to figure out what to say, she realizes. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he eventually settles on, taking a sip of the beer.

She can’t tell if he’s sincere or not and she isn’t going to ask. Not right now. “I’ll be okay,” she says, shrugging.

He huffs. “I know you will be,” he says. “But you know it’s okay _not_ to be okay, right?”

She glances over at him in surprise. This, she realizes, is what he wanted to say a few days ago, but didn't.

“You’ve been through a lot the last few months,” he continues, studying the label of the beer, frowning. “Ben dying, the Flirtual Killer stalking you, what happened last week. You’re entitled to not be at full capacity.”

“You are too, you know,” she says softly. Now that she’s studying him, she can see his skin is paler than usual and there are bags underneath his eyes. He isn’t okay either, whether he’ll admit it or not.

He’s uncomfortable, she can tell, but he’s clearly trying to push through it and she admires that about him. “The last few months have just sucked,” he says, looking over at her and laughing slightly.

She laughs too because yeah, that’s an understatement. “Amen to that,” she says and holds out the bottle. He taps his against hers and takes a long pull.

“So,” she says, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve been dumped, which means I get to eat my weight in junk food and mope.”

“Can’t argue with that.” He opens up the pizza box and pulls out a slice, handing it to her. He grabs his own and reaches for the remote, turning the TV on to some shitty reality show she can’t remember the name of.

He settles onto the couch, watching the screen as he eats. She does the same, though she’s not really hungry. She glances at Tommy every few minutes, turning back to the screen when he glances back at her. She feels ridiculous, like a schoolgirl with a crush, so the next time he glances over at her, she doesn’t look away.

She smiles slightly and he smiles back.

She can admit to herself that Tommy is special to her, that he’s more to her than the man she’s working with to catch Ben’s killer. She’s gotten to know him over the last few months and she likes what she’s learned. He means something to her now.

And maybe he does love her and maybe she does have feelings for him, but she knows neither of them will act on it right now. Tommy and Ben are still too intertwined, too synonymous to her. She owes it to Tommy to make sure her feelings are solely for _Tommy_ and not _Ben’s_ Tommy. They both loved Ben and they’re both still mourning him and it’ll take some time for it not to feel like Ben is constantly between them. Like they’re betraying him.

So no, nothing is going to happen right now. Maybe not anytime soon. But, well.

One day.

**Author's Note:**

> come cry with me on [tumblr](http://www.oliverhamptoned.tumblr.com)


End file.
